


Cabbies

by horseheadnebula



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-24
Updated: 2013-10-24
Packaged: 2017-12-30 08:49:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1016576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/horseheadnebula/pseuds/horseheadnebula
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was a fill for the 2011 Your words on my tongue vigbean fic exchange. It was inspired by a photograph of a run down diner.<br/>Neil Byrne is Sean's character in the mini-series Extremely Dangerous. For those of you who do not know it: Neil is a british agent who is set up by his boss and the local syndicate by making it look like he murdered his own wife and child.<br/>This story happens after the film.<br/>Viggo's life turned out a little bit different...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cabbies

Cabbies

It is cold. Much colder than in England, that's for sure. The worst cold Neil feels is not on the outside, though freezing feet and fingers are pretty annoying, but deep within him.  
Maybe it's the town, so big, so anonymous. Maybe it's that he's never been this lonely. Who knows.

Neil decides to take a cab back to the low -budget boardinghouse he's staying in. It's not that he's short on money; he's saved all of his risk pay and what he'd inherited from his grandparents and managed to transfer it to a save account on the channel islands. It's just that he doesn't know how long it'll have to last.

But he can spoil himself with a cab ride now and again. He's cold enough as it is, walking back would probably result in hypothermia. Apparently a lot of people have the same idea, so he stands and hails and shivers for at least another ten minutes. When finally a yellow cab pulls up after almost passing him by, his mood is as foul as it can be.

His grumbled “Hello.” is met with a soft, warm “Good afternoon.” Neil sinks into a seat that is soft, too, can't help but look at the driver who's greeted him so friendly. The guy is looking out front while pulling back into the insane traffic, but Neil gets a glimpse of ash blond hair flopping over a high forehead, and when the man asks where he wants to go, clear blue-grey eyes are meeting Neil's in the rearview mirror.

He gives the address and adds:” But if you know a place with good food near it, please drop me there.” Now, that his hands begin to prickle while they get warm again, he notices that he hasn't eaten all day. He tends to live on coffee and cigarettes when he's stressed, but where's the stress in living day by day with no work, no obligations?

The driver's answer rips him out of his thoughts.  
“Yeah, I know a place. Tasty food, not expensive. I'll...” he breaks off and swerves the car around, large hands gripping the wheel tightly as another car takes his right of way.  
As soon as he's got the vehicle under control again, a stream of Spanish words flows from his lips, accompanied by rude gestures. Neil, who had to cling to the seat to avoid being thrown against the door, understands only the words 'puta' and 'cabrón', but he gets the gist and agrees wholeheartedly. 

“That bastard sure deserved every word, but you don't look Spanish.” he remarks. The driver ducks his head a little, and Neil thinks he looks a little sheepish. “Uhm, sorry. He shocked me; it's a nightmare of mine ,to have an accident while having a passenger.” Neil makes a dismissive gesture, 'cause he knows all about those, so he straightens a bit and explains:” I'm not Spanish, no. I was born here, but grew up in South America. Sometimes it shows.” he points over his shoulder to the license that's fixed to the seat. “In fact, I'm half Danish. Viggo Peter Mortensen Junior, that's me.” he grins while looking back briefly. “A true New Yorker.”

Neil feels his lips stretch into a real smile, which is strange because he doesn't smile much anymore. In another life he was a fun- loving, easy going guy, but in the last years all of his smiles were for a reason, to distract or to intimidate, never for the pure amusement he feels about the gentle irony in Mortensen's voice.

“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Mortensen. My name's Neil Byrne, I'm from England.” he replies, wondering why the words come so easy when in all the months since he came to the States it had been a chore to even be civil to people.  
“So I hear.” Viggo says. “That's why you'll like the place I'm taking you. The cook's from Wales, he makes all these unhealthy, awesome dishes like pies and stews. That okay?”

“Okay? It's bloody brilliant, mate!” Neil has not known how much he's missed familiar food, hasn't even been hungry most of the time, but now he can't wait to get there. Viggo seems to get that, he drives that little bit faster. They continue to talk on the way, the conversation flowing freely, and Neil enjoys it immensely.

When they reach an almost deserted street, Neil looks sceptical, though. All that's visible from where Viggo's put his cab in 'park' is a break in the block, like a very narrow alley, that doesn't look inviting, with cold neon light shining from it. Viggo seems to sense his hesitation and turns in his seat. “I know it don't look like much, but this is a decent neighbourhood, really. I should know, I live a few blocks down.”He smiles to himself more than to Neil and adds:” Whether I'm decent is up to debate, of course..”

“You look pretty decent to me.” falls from the Brit's lips before he can catch himself. Viggo actually blushes, easily visible on his winter pale skin, and finds some lint on the dashboard that needs to be brushed away. After a moment he turns back. “Look,” he says” my shift's almost over and the car's not booked tonight. Would you...I mean...I could do with a bite...” He pauses and swallows. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”

There's no hesitation now. “Yes, I would like that very much.” answers Neil. They get out of the car and Neil finds out that it's not an alley but a courtyard, leading to a brightly lit Diner that has been fittingly named 'Hole in the wall'. Somehow, he thinks that's great.  
He thinks more things are great this night; Viggo's jokes, his quiet, soothing voice, the food, which is every bit as tasty as the Danish- American had promised. And if he feels warmer than before he met Viggo, that's great, too.


End file.
